Where have all the people gone?

As some of you may know, I've been dealing with some personal issues. My grandmother is in extremely poor health and is expected to die soon. I've been trying to deal with the emotions and thoughts of this, and will write about it soon. But, instead of giving you guys a bad blog post that wasn't thought through, I'll give you something worth reading. Here's an article (with a few edits) I wrote for my college's newspaper, The Echo. Enjoy!

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I’m not sure why I have this problem.

Maybe it’s my own fault because I like to engage in controversial topics. Maybe it’s because I read the surprisingly still-active “Taylor Confessions” page on Facebook. Maybe it’s because I know people who have been affected by it, and that has colored my views. Maybe it’s because I value people far above logic and arguing, and I realize life is messier than we think.

All I know is that I am getting sick and tired of the intellectual games and arguments surrounding homosexuality in the Church.

First we have our right-wing conservatives who often proclaim how wrong homosexuality is, sometimes with grace, but more often with judgment and anger, especially in public forums (*cough* Facebook *cough*). Yes, I know this happens because I used to act that way myself.

Then we have those who identify themselves in the LGTBQ (Lesbian/Gay/Bi/Transsexual/Queer) community. And they respond in anger at the judgment they feel and argue about how it’s not wrong to be gay.

Black and White. Good and Bad. Right and Wrong. Both sides claiming to have the correct view.

And it goes back and forth, argument after argument, until it descends into name-calling, buffoonery, and all caps with excessive punctuation. It’s all rhetoric and childish idiocy.

No one convinces the other with their arguments. Nothing changes. We just hurt each other.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I used to be that way (on the right-wing side). I knew all the arguments (still do) about why homosexuality’s bad. I knew what the Bible said. I thought I knew everything. And then I met someone who is gay.

Now, when I say “gay,” I mean “someone who experiences a strong sexual attraction/preference for members of the same sex.” Homosexuality is a spectrum of experiences and responses. Some people actively pursue same-sex relationships. Some decide to become celibate. But all these people have stories. Stories go far beyond black-and-white.

There are the blood-reds of rejection and pain. There are the deep-sea-blues of loneliness, depression and fervently desired love and acceptance. There are the bright, vibrant greens of finding people who show care, love and support.

Life is messy. It doesn’t offer easy answers. And it angers me when life stories are reduced to arguments where someone has to be right. When pain is reduced to rhetoric.

I know how preferable it is to stay inside our own little boxes where we have all the answers to life, the universe and homosexuality. But we aren’t meant to live inside boxes. And having all the answers won’t bring us fulfillment. Just look at Paul in 1 Corinthians 13. The Bible calls us to love. We can’t do that until we get to know each other’s stories.

No, it’s not comfortable. And yes, you might have to wrestle with some tough questions. You might have to realize that (gasp!) you don’t have all the answers. That’s okay.

Stop the rhetoric games. Start listening to the stories.

Things Christians Need To Say

We Christians love to make fun of our “Christianese” jargon and sayings. 

Relevant Magazine, the Huffington Post, and others have all talked about all the stupid things we say. There's the fun video about "Shoot Christians Say." One of my favorite Christian video makers, BlimeyCow, made a satirical video about Christianese that I love.

And recently I came across a great post by Michael J. Murray with his own ides of what things Christians need to stop saying.

(Of course, I read this post while I was composing my own rant about clichés Christians say, which started after seeing what I thought was a very naive and insensitive picture.)

 

But Murray said something I think few people have said: “Christians should stop saying that Christians should stop saying stuff.”

I was thinking, “Yeah! Tell ‘em!” 

Then I remembered the blog post I was writing. And I realized I was doing exactly what I agreed people should stop doing: telling people what not to say.

Whoops.

“What’s trite and obnoxious to one person might be quite meaningful to another. Words that sound profane and offensive to me could be the very words you need to hear to know you are loved,” Murray said.

Funny how he’s right. The picture I found offensive one of my aunts later shared as an encouragement.

So, instead of my planned post about things Christians shouldn’t say, here a couple thing I wish Christians would say more to the community around us.

1:

“God loves you.”

I know. We’ve heard it a thousand times. But do we say it often enough, particularly to the people outside the church? Or do people waving signs saying "God Hates Fags" characterize us more?

Sometimes we don’t say “God hates you” outright. We just suggest it. 

God loves you . . . unless you’re gay. God loves you . . . unless you had an affair. God loves you . . . unless you had an abortion.

The funny thing is, all those things happen because people are looking for love. Yes, what they did or are doing is wrong, but the reasons behind them go straight back to love.

We see the girl walking into the clinic to get an abortion. But we don’t see the mistakes she made that led her there, the nights she gave herself to men, looking for someone to love her unconditionally. We don’t see the tears, the shame that led her here, trying to correct her mistakes and hoping no one finds out she’s pregnant.

And we don’t tell her how much God loves her. Yes, God loves the baby inside her, But we neglect to say that God loves her. She’s made mistakes, and maybe about to make another one. But God loves her unconditionally. Just like he loves the people searching for love in affairs or in the arms of someone who’s the same sex that they are.

2:

“The loss is still real.”

One of the issues I still have with the inspiring picture about giving thanks is that it feels very trite to people currently struggling with pain. And I think we as Christians forget to tell people it’s okay to hurt.

C.S. Lewis said in Perelandra, “God can make good use of all that happens. But the loss is real.”

It’s easy to say that God will work all things to our good. But we forget to stop and feel with those who mourn and hurt. We give quick answers to their questions, spout clichés and biblical promises. But in all honesty I doubt we know the answers to their questions born of their pain. And sadly we’re not willing to admit that we don’t. We try to encourage people yet we ignore the grief of loss. We ignore the pain.

Stop and listen. And comfort. You may not know how to handle someone’s pain. But they still want to know that their pain is real and valid. They want to know that it is okay to hurt.

So let’s be honest. Let’s say we don’t understand, that we don’t have all the answers. That they have lost something valuable and it’s okay to grieve for it.

3:

“I'm sorry.”

We have to admit we're wrong, when we make a mistake and we hurt someone else. We need to ask forgiveness. When we say, "I'm sorry," we convey a message of love. We convey that we are trying to love and that we sometimes don't get it right. 

It calls for humility and strength. It's harder to admit you were wrong than to insist you are right. But it's part of being a Christian. We are to be reconciled to one another. Jesus said in Matthew that if we know that we have a problem with someone, or they have a problem with us, we are supposed to go and fix it. That may mean apologizing to them. 

This summer, Exodus International made their own apology to the gay community after they decided to shut down. Alan Chambers specifically wrote an apology to those hurt by the Church, who were driven away by the Westboro Baptist stereotype of rejection.

"More than anything, I am sorry that so many have interpreted this religious rejection by Christians as God’s rejection.  I am profoundly sorry that many have walked away from their faith and that some have chosen to end their lives. For the rest of my life I will proclaim nothing but the whole truth of the Gospel, one of grace, mercy and open invitation to all to enter into an inseverable relationship with almighty God."

The world would be a far better place if we would admit to others that we are wrong occasionally. It offers people the chance to forgive and show mercy. And it shows the world what we constantly claim: We are sinner, just like everyone else. Our difference is that we have been forgiven.

These words are not earth-shattering. They aren’t brilliant. but maybe they can help us change our world for the better.

Remember, God loves you. And I'm trying to as well.

To the Risen

***EDIT: This post was originally titled, "To the Fallen." Upon reflection I realized my friends, while having died, have not fallen. They have risen to new life in Christ, a life in which they know understand and see fully, the veil of this mortal life having been stripped away.***

You never forget your first friend to die.

They might have been taken in an accident. They might have been overcome by suicide. But they leave an indelible mark on your soul.

Within the last 4 years, I have had four different friends die. Two died with months of each other.  It made me think Death was hounding me, like Final Destination, or something. That feeling has since dissipated, but it hurt to watch my friends' loved ones suffer through the pain of their loss.

Now, with time having past and giving me separation from Death's biting sting, I can look back on their lives with smiles, and not so much pain. I've thought of what I would say to two of those friends who died, and this is it.

To my dear friend Abby,

Oh, Abby. I know I was likely one of the least of your friends. But you were my first friend to die. The first light I saw go out. I have never forgotten you. Your smiling eyes. Your beautiful voice. Your love for God that seeped through every pore as I watched you worship on stage during church each Sunday. I guess these details are etched in my mind like the afterimage of a brilliant flash is burned into retinas.

I remember how much you were passionate for God. And I remember you caring about me. You were one of the first people to welcome me and my family to church seven years ago. And I still remember that one song you played for Easter, almost six or seven years ago. You know, I think it's one of the only songs that has stuck with me throughout my life. I still play it often, whenever I feel sad, or want to remember God loves me.

Thank you Abby, for burning so brightly. Thanks for loving your Savior so well. I still look up to you as an example of what it means to desire God and His will with all your heart. I will never forget you.

Enjoy a dance with Jesus for me, please.

And to Josh Larkin,

Josh, I wish I had known you better. You too have a legacy. You cared so deeply about people. You loved others as much as yourself and God. I know. I know because after you died, the whole campus grieved. People still think, still talk, still miss you, a year after you've passed away. And, quite frankly, no one cared about my blog as much as they did when I wrote my small tribute to you. :)

I wish I could do you better justice. I wish we had been better friends. I wish your life hadn't ended so tragically. But your death is not your legacy. Your life is. You burned brightly! People looked (and still currently look) up to you. And as deeply as you loved, we still love you Josh. We still miss you. We still remember you and your life. You will never be forgotten by us.